


right at the borderline is where i'm gonna wait

by goodmourning



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: F/M, Implied Pregnancy, Outdoor Sex, Post-Reconciliation, Religious Discussion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Semi-Public Sex, Tails, dont kill me DONT KILL ME, if bible discussion makes you uncomfortable seriously look away, lemme begin by saying that: i grew up catholic so you can't beat my ass, post-qon but without spoilers its in reference to the timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 10:57:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21373024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmourning/pseuds/goodmourning
Summary: “Sweet? The doom of humanity is sweet?”He smiled at her laugh. “No. The intention of you."biblical references. give or take three years after qon. (posted originally on tumblr @amandlas)
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 19
Kudos: 231





	right at the borderline is where i'm gonna wait

The apple had been shiny. Decadent in gold, everything about it inhuman.

Jude inspected it with a slithering memory of it stuffing her nose, trickling down her cheeks. Back when Valerian was alive and planned to make a fool of her. How could something so beautifully venomous appear so harmless?

She was uncomfortably reminded of her twin sister. To shake away the thought she spoke.

“An apple doomed humanity.”

Cardan lifted a brow. His tail swept at his back, causing a small hissing noise. They were done with food, lounging at the table close and carefree, political matters long dealt with.

Jude scrunched her brows, trying to remember. “In some religions of mortals, the first man and woman were kicked out of heaven for eating an apple. Her, specifically.”

“Really?” he asked, intrigued.

She nodded. “Adam and Eve. They were meant to live in the garden of Eden but a devilish snake charmed Eve into eating the forbidden fruit.” She grabbed the faerie apple, lifted it for closer inspection. She could smell its sickly sweetness. “Then she convinced Adam to do the same.”

His face was full of amusement. “A snake.”

“A snake.” Jude placed the apple back on the platter. There was more, she knew there was, but her time in the mortal world was long past. “The devil in disguise, actually.”

He nodded as if in understanding. “Is that your creation?”

Jude felt stunned by the use of ‘your’. She shifted in her seat, moving her right leg so it was no longer in contact with his. This subject was bringing back memories forgotten or repressed for more than a decade. Crosses. Stars. Going to school, seeing churches on the way there through the car window. Thick books hidden in a drawer in every hotel room. Like anything mortal, religion had been ruined by Elfhame even if the Duartes had never been particularly devout. She found herself unable to move forward from this yet wanting to run away.

“Religion was never a strong verse of mine. Especially considering the age I came here.” The thought drifted off into silence. It was all she could say. Cardan had the decency to hold her gaze, to allow her this vulnerability without pity.

Her eyebrows scrunched again. “It must all sounds so…absurd to you.” She had to look away.

Cardan remained silent, his tail quiet at his back. He grabbed the apple and gave it a hard bite. Through juicy chunks he bid her, “What happened to them?”

For a handful of days, she told him here and there. Not much but the mere basics. Jude herself didn’t recall too well. She remembered the tale through Cardan. He asked, more intrigued than was to be expected, either for her favor or a genuine curiosity over human beliefs. She even managed to stop by a human library during a visit to Vivi’s, where she found and printed out a picture from the internet to show her husband. He saw a drawing of two naked people ambling by bushes of green and red. They had leaves between their legs and expressions of wonder. Of children. Jude still couldn’t pinpoint how to feel. It settled weird in her stomach, as she held up the tiny print out and Cardan squinted with an unreadable expression. To think that this was her beginnings. How faeries must’ve seen them. Standing in the shoes of an outsider, it made her feel more human than she felt in a long time.

She thought the subject to be blessedly forgotten, until a few days later.

Cardan was guiding her with hands over her eyes. The guards were called away, instructed not to interrupt them. Jude felt the pounding of her own heart up to her ears. She could sense and hear grass under her feet, smell leaves and moss. The place they were going to was warm.

“Why is it growing quieter?”

Cardan didn’t falter. “We’re moving deeper into the forest is why.”

“Will we run into wild animals? I remember studying the mountain lions-”

His chuckle cut her off. “No lions, Lady Devout Student. I found this place not too long ago, in the years prior to my ascension to the throne. It is quiet and secluded.” There was a pause. He stopped both in their tracks. “I’ll admit it was lonely. I was often lonely. At least here, the view was better than my chambers at Hollow Hall.”

Cardan removed his hands.

Jude huffed in a breath. She couldn’t appreciate being led blindly through the woods, but the sight before her took the words away.

It was a small bit of everything a human would expect of a fairytale. A nook in the woods, some place forgotten by the maps. There was an ample space surrounded by greenery. She could only describe it as a concealed meadow. The trees formed in a natural alcove, hugging the space into intimacy. Even the thin slices of sunlight creeping through leaves looked magical. And flowers. Those were everywhere. Their smell filled her nose, enticing like honey.

“There,” Cardan pointed.

It was an apple tree. Small and with only a few golden apples dangling from its branches. She did not know what to make of the metaphor.

“It’s…bewitching,” she told him.

He walked over to the tree. Pried a fruit off it. “I never showed this place to anyone.”

That simple sentence reached her heart. He walked over back to her.

“I was reminded of this place,” he began, “when you first told me the mortal creation story.”

Ah. Everything was clicking. Jude took a deep breath, inhaling with it the scent of the apple. “The garden of Eden was meant to be heavenly.” She smirked at him, lifting a brow. “This is presumptuous of you.”

His hand found her chin. “Presumptuous it may be. Conceited, even. Poetic, hopefully?”

It was endearing to see him this way. To allow him to care. She stepped closer, his loose linen white shirt brushing hers. She didn’t have a dramatic black coat over hers but that was attributed to his taste and her lack thereof. The black tint around his eyes was perfect.

“Am I supposed to fall hopeless to your faerie charms?” She stepped even closer, so close she pretended to clean lint off his coat.

His free hand fell to her hip. “Are they successful?”

She scoffed. “You fell for my foolish mortal wiles. Anything should be possible.”

With the hand holding the apple, he brushed some strands of hair out of her face. “Here I am, attempting to be elegiac.” He leaned down and planted a soft, deep kiss on her lips.

Jude allowed her eyes to close. She let herself be vulnerable, allowed him to lead. He kissed her again, still slow as if afraid she would turn and leave. When they pulled apart he was breathing heavy. Then he licked the skin of the apple, not quite biting it, while maintaining eye contact.

Her breathing hitched.

“Never have I been the doted student so correct me if I'm wrong.” His lips met her cheek, then the other. “I recall that Adam and Eve had but two rules.”

“Rules?”

He pulled back and rolled his eyes. “Expectations.”

Jude let out a laugh. “You’ve become a better student.” He’d become a better lots of things. “What rules?”

His one hand still gripped her waist. “The first was not to eat the apple. Which,” he threw his golden apple in the air and caught it again, “they failed.” He said it with a certain finality that fell ill on her belly.

Her eyes fell directly on the faerie fruit in his hand. It all suddenly swirled around in her head. Her humanity. The memory of being helplessly under its spell that school afternoon, and the memory of desiring more. How at that moment, at the raw experience of eating the single fruit she lost semblance of herself, her basest instinct of survival. It pushed her to act against her own self-interest, to destroy herself. Succulent and blissful it had been, but the cost of it was the fall. A beautiful fall, but a fall nonetheless.

She felt too close to Eve at that moment. A shudder ran down her body. Eve, the first mother, who many pointed to as the broken woman who cursed humankind. The single bite that ruined the world.

Cardan could tell she got lost in her head. He lowered his hand and brought her eyes to his. He demanded all her attention.

“I don't believe you are foolish.” He whispered it like a caress. “I never have.” He paused, gathering his thoughts and granting her the same courtesy. “My own prejudice blinded me, as yours did me equally.”

“You thought me an insect for so long.”

“And you thought me a monster.”

Some days it was hard to convince herself that either of them was wrong.

He let the fruit fall from his hand so he could cup her face fully.

“Adam and Eve are a whimsical tale but I would not call anyone naive for believing in it. Not you, if you did, or any other mortal. From a certain light it’s...innocent. Sweet.”

Jude scoffed, her heart lightened. “Sweet? The doom of humanity is sweet?”

He smiled at her laugh. “No. The intention of you. Residing in heaven, living in ignorant bliss with your love and your equal is what makes it sweet.”

At this she lifted a brow. He might be bringing some of his own interpretation to the tale. But gender relations and faith had always been different in Elfhame, so he knew no better. “Like I mentioned, I am not well-versed in the text. Some mortals would even call you wrong. But I suppose a story is to be made whatever the reader wishes to make it.”

“Here's what I make of this one.” And he pulled her into another hungrier kiss.

Jude could’ve almost laughed, as he tugged at her clothes and her fingers shed him of his trousers. Piece by piece, they rid the other of clothing. When air bit her bare skin, she jumped back without thinking. They were in public. They could be found.

Cardan studied her expression quickly, worried. He understood immediately. “The guards. I sent them off to a perimeter, remember? We are alone.”

Right. Tension left her muscles as her spine straightened again. She brought his body back to hers, only his shirt and socks left. She helped him with the first as he stepped out of the second.

“I cannot believe your biblical seduction worked.”

His fanciful smile flashed. Sparkling white teeth. “It is not finished yet.”

Part of her couldn’t believe it. “Frankly, it’s hard to fathom you could care so much.”

He ignored her, as they were now fully uncovered. Silently, he leaned forward and shook out her hair, fluffing it out in wild tangles. It was unlike her, aside from moments in training when her pleats came loose. His long fingers touching her scalp sent shivers everywhere in her body, and her eyes drooped. Jude’s brown hair was so long and fluffy it fell down streams past her shoulders, brushing the tops of her breasts and tickling her back. When Cardan appeared satisfied with the results, he stepped back to rake her all over. From crown to heel.

As naked as they had come into this world. Mortal and fae alike. There was a metaphor there.

“You forgot the second.” Cardan whispered this into her neck as he guided her down onto the floor.

“What?” It was hard to think.

“The second rule. You forgot to ask about it.” They settled on the pasture.

Part of her was so confused. Also annoyed. “Oh, you’re teaching now?”

He made a show of pinching the side of her ass. Jude yelped. He soothed her by nuzzling her nose with his.

“The first rule was not to eat the apple. Correct?”

This was so out of bounds but it had to be going somewhere. She nodded.

Her husband took a deep breath. Inhaling her in. Perhaps afraid of what he would say next. Of what Jude would think. “The second was to go forth and be fruitful.” His pale hand trailed her sides, skimming her hips. “To continue humanity.” His lips marked kisses on her clavicles, descending to her chest. “To have many,” a kiss to her sternum, “many,” another right above her belly button, “_many_ children.” The last kiss was at her abdomen, his hands on either side of her stomach.

The air was knocked right out her lungs. Cold shocked her entire body, then in a flash she was hot all over.

She looked into his eyes. Cardan was calm, serene. He was upright now, leaning on one hand on the ground. His thumb drew circles on her hip. A part of him seemed resigned, as if ready for a blow. In that moment she felt his spirit as open as she had privilege to see very few times prior.

Jude trained her voice not to shake. “You wish to be fruitful, my husband?”

A long pause. They only stared at each other until Cardan leaned down to kiss her stomach again. “To try, certainly.”

She couldn’t find any words. Therefore she used her body instead. One hand cupped his face, gently, then the other. As if holding a delicate bird. His black crow eyes could tear her soul apart.

Half of her didn’t know what she was doing when her hands pulled him up, meeting his lips with hers. It was neither an answer nor a rejection. A response, the best she could give him for now.

Nevertheless he answered threefold. The High King refused to break apart until they were both gasping for air. A small smile adorned his face when he seductively muttered into her lips.

“Let us play like Adam and Eve. I’ll have you with leaves in your hair and grass beneath our backs.” He planted a kiss on her ear, nibbling. “The blue sky can be our witness.”

Her hand kept him where he was as she groaned. “You would play at a mortal amongst the dirt?”

Instead of celebrating her banter, he bit her harder. This time she hissed, and he moved lower.

“We,” Cardan mumbled on her skin, “are the only two beings in here.” Unable to lie, he couldn’t play along with their roles and say ‘in the world’. It had to be ‘in here’, in the alcove, yet she appreciated his way around it all the same. The sentiment remained. That sinful mouth floated over the skin of her belly. It traced a line falling low. Jude gasped when he teased the area above her center. Between her legs is where she wanted him, where he refused to go. A whimper escaped.

It made him look up. “There is no one else.” With that, his red tongue licked the bundle of nerves amidst her thighs.

Jude could only grip his hair, shut her eyes and moan. He drew circles, adding pressure that drew louder noises. When he took all of her into his mouth and sucked she started to scare the birds off the trees.

His hand, snake-like, slithered up her hip and to her breast, where he caressed and squeezed her. The other…it went to her center, aiding his lips, teasing. One finger, then two, and the tongue circling harder.

Jude couldn’t make sense of up from down to the point where her peak came in a waterfall without notice. It felt nothing short of natural. Her chest heaved, eyes closed and back arched. When Cardan withdrew his fingers they were soaked.

Pleased beyond sense, she only felt him work his way back up, align his chest to hers. Smother her neck with kisses while pushing her thighs apart with his knee.

“No one else,” he murmured against her throat.

Her eyes fluttered. “No one…”

He kneeled upward suddenly. Cardan reached for a flower, two, pink and bright from a bush next to her head. He threw off the stems, leaving only the petals and crushing those between his long hands. She was still busy riding her high to ask what the hell he was doing. Then he took what remained of the flowers and smeared it over her body. Across her chest, down to her stomach. She was glazed in petals. Everywhere he touched, she shuddered. Her body was a canvas in pink. Clinging to her skin, staining and perfuming her. Grass glued to her back and flower petals to her front, hair fanned out. It was the farthest from dirty she’d ever felt. His expression was hungry, reverential, and some other unreadable thing.

“Jude.”

She met his gaze. “Cardan.”

His hand went between their legs, and she felt the nudge at her entrance. Her breathing stopped.

He leaned down to touch noses, foreheads, to share breath. “We are primordial.”

He could not lie. He believed it, some part of him, some twisted explanation. She didn’t give herself time to ponder.

“_Cardan_.” Sliding into her was the easiest thing.

All thoughts died with a sigh.

Everything stilled. His eyelids fell shut, breath tickling her face. “There is only you and me.”

Time went by oddly. Jude couldn't separate one coupling from the next. Something out of a fever dream or the drowsiness that follows a strong poison. She was overwhelmed with the primal nature of the story, by the pleasure in her body.

Cardan was thrusting into her from behind, both laying on the grass on their sides. Wet leaves stuck to his legs, to her hip. She was moaning, a fist of grass in her hand and a fist of her hair in his. He pulled, brought her closer. “My love,” he whispered in her ear.

Then she was straddling him. Moving up and down painfully slowly, torturous drags. She had his chin in her hands, powerful, forcing his eyes to hers. She was whispering, unrecalled heinous things she wouldn’t remember later. Only the feel of him inside and his hands on her hips.

That might have been the first hour. Or the second.

He was slamming into her. Jude was dizzy with the pace, strong and rhythmic. Her back was to an old tree, steadying her. Cardan kissed her breast. He was not going fast, focusing on going deeper. There were petals stuck to his chest now too, and some grass blades. The paint around his eyes was smudged. She yelped once. An evil smile formed on him, a smile that reminded her of taunts and tricks. His hands fell to her sides, one on her and one on the tree. His hips charged harder, making their pelvises meet and slightly pushing her up the tree. She squealed louder.

Jude was riding him again. She was on her front this time, facing away from him, each hand on his knees for support. Her hair was a _mess_; tiny stems and petals caught on the ends, the odd twig here and there. It was far from her priorities, though, or his. She even thought the ferality heightened his desire. At her back, Cardan hissed, grip on her waist as she impaled herself on him over and over. Slick sounds filled the meadow.

His tail whispered up her left side. The tuft coil slid around her throat, cutting off a groan, settling as a choker. “_Oh_,” was what she could manage. A particularly strong moan escaped Cardan. She rode him harder. Faster. Leveling her body so only her waist moved, keeping them close. Back and forth, back and forth, blinding her senses. She came again, as swiftly as an autumn breeze.

That was when he decided to push her forward. His tail stayed at her throat, tightening. She was on all fours, limbs trembling.

Cardan shifted into position behind. “On your knees, Your Majesty.”

It took a few gasps to gather a response. “Majesty? I thought I was Eve from the garden-” but the rest was gone to his thrusts. The grass under her hands was ripped off.

Where had their base necessities gone? For hours they wouldn’t stop to eat, to drink, only to rest for some heartbeats in between positions. A mere catching of the breath. Blue sky turned to pink, purple, to a reddish tint marking sundown. Jude thought the garden had truly driven them mad.

He was on top, eyes locked on hers. Jude sprawled on the ground with one leg horizontal and the other on his shoulder, his hand holding it close. She had one foot in the air and her thighs open wide. Anything but them, but the glistening sight of their joining ceased to exist.

She kept one hand at his hip, beckoning him forward, controlling the pace even with him moving above. It was a fantastic dynamic. Below him, she whispered praise and any unintelligible phrase that came to mind. “Just like that,” she’d say. “Right there. Harder. That’s better.” There was even a shaky “That feels perfect.” It only made him more dutiful. Then she noticed him looking at her breasts. How they bounced by the efforts of their movements.

“Touch them,” she commanded.

His hand went to one, fingers splayed wide, clutching.

“Harder than that.”

With a moan, he squeezed harder, sparking pain and pleasure through her nerves. Her limbs were aflame.

Skin met skin. The slaps were like a song, lulling her and encouraging him. Cardan took a glance at the place where he disappeared in her, again and again.

“You’re drenched.”

She had coated them both until their groins were wet.

Jude grasped his shoulders, snatching him to her, chests meeting. As close as they could be. In that liminal state, in that indescribable eternal in-between, she planted kisses on every inch of him.

“Love me.” She whispered in his ear, his hair, any reachable place. “Love me. Love me. Love me.”

Their last thoughts blurred into oblivion.

There is only you.

There is only me.

For now.

**Author's Note:**

> if this offended you in any way pull up
> 
> if you liked this and are capable, consider [buying me a coffee](https://ko-fi.com/goodmourning)?


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